


Music Box

by Esin_of_Sardis



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esin_of_Sardis/pseuds/Esin_of_Sardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle finds a music box in the Dark Castle's library and can't help but dance to the melody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music Box

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt from tumblr

The music box must have been enchanted. Instead of a sweet stream of small chimes, the sounds of a full orchestra filled the room when she opened it. Startled, Belle shut the wooden box with a hollow snap. Magic still managed to shock her, even after nearly a year in the Dark Castle. Slowly, as though it might attack her, she opened the lid again.

Once more, the music began to play, tiny bits of the clockwork spinning to produce an inexplicable melody. It was sweet and lilting—a waltz, familiar yet strange at the same time. It had been years since she’d danced. With war nearing their doorsteps day by day, there hadn’t been time or money for a ball or even to pay a minstrel for an evening.

Her feet remembered the basic steps even though her mind could not. She curtsied. In her imagination, the invisible man before her bowed, rising to offer her his hand with a smile. She waited a beat for the melody to start again, then began. One,two, three. One,two, three. One,two, three. Her partner was a talented dancer, graceful. Belle gave him her sweetest smile, though he had not the eyes to see it. She imagined where his hands held her body—delicately, reverently, lovingly—though she could not feel their warmth.

The music swept her up, taking her far from the library and her task of cleaning it. Around her, the old books and plain wood floor melted away. She didn’t dance in the grand ballroom of her childhood home, with its gilded walls and crowds of courtiers. No, she was alone. She didn’t know where, but the ballroom was old, the floors dusty. It was a mystery and the music box echoed gently through the wide space.

Her invisible partner continued to steer her through the steps. They moved perfectly together, exchanging small smiles. One,two, three. One,two, three. He let her go for a twirl, the most graceful Belle could manage. She came back to him and he caught her hand—

It was real. Torn from her fantasy, Belle looked to see none other than Rumpelstiltskin there, his hand holding hers. He nodded, waiting. Only then did Belle realize that she’d stopped dancing. Taking a deep breath, her feet moved of their own accord, completing the step. He caught her easily, the music never ceasing to coax her feet into movement.

Dancing with him was different. There was no old, abandoned ballroom now. Every sense was more aware that she’d known was possible. She took in every detail—the shine of the gold on the spinning wheel, the faded titles of hundreds of books, the guarded look in his eyes, the graceful way he moved. The music seemed richer now, her own breaths loud in her ears. Every movement stirred the air around them. The hem of her skirts, shorter than she’d usually dance in, brushed against her ankles with every step and spin. And his touch.

Just like before, his touch burned her, setting her on tingling, euphoric fire. Except now instead of merely the feeling of his arms holding her, it was his hands, every finger distinct. He held her close, closer than might have been proper in a formal ballroom. But this was no ballroom.

His grace shouldn’t have surprised her. He always had a sort of dramatic flair to his movements, and it bled into the dance. While her memory had only served to recall the most basic steps, he led her in a more intricate pattern. Even when she was not sure where to go next, his hands were there, guiding her, leading without controlling.

The dance began to become a blur, sensation after sensation assaulting her, making her lightheaded with delight. The music grew, and with it the speed of their steps, each rotation more complicated and graceful than the last. One,two, three. One,two, three. She knew everything at once, yet only him. Sensation filled her every nerve, but her eyes and hands seemed glued to him and only him. One,two, three. One,two, three. In the last crescendo, he led her in one final circle, then back, wheeling, whirling into his arms once more.

The music ended, dying off slowly. They were inches apart, both their chests heaving. There was a clunk as the key dropped to the bottom of the music box, needing to be wound again. Belle let out a shaky breath, unable to keep her nervous smile off her face.

“Thank you,” she said, unsure what she was thanking him for.

He stepped back, nodding quickly, then was gone an instant later, as if the music box had conjured him too as part of its enchantment.


End file.
